


Just a Fool to Believe

by Linisen



Series: Dirty Dancing AU [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dirty Dancing Fusion, Light Angst, M/M, Missing Scene, Pining Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29438097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linisen/pseuds/Linisen
Summary: Yuuri leaves the Catskills heartbroken, and seeks shelter with an old friend.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Yuri Plisetsky, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: Dirty Dancing AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162364
Comments: 22
Kudos: 75





	Just a Fool to Believe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Solnyshko_UK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solnyshko_UK/gifts).



> This is for Sol, who wanted to know ‘What happened in Dirty Dancing AU between Yuuri leaving the resort and him coming back.’ I hope you all enjoy it!  
> Hugs  
> Lini.

There was a sharp knock at the front door. He wasn’t even sure he heard the first one, or the second one. Really, it was unclear how long the person standing there had been knocking. It was all a haze, as he tried to fight back sleep in favour of sharpening his senses. It was still pitch black when he managed to open his eyes, but this night was the longest of the year, it was almost dark constantly. 

He blinked, and turned over, the apartment silent once more.

Perhaps it was just some drunk who had gotten lost.

He settled into the pillow again, and started driffinging back to sleep.

The knock rang through the apartment once more, and the body beside him, stirred. 

“Who the fuck would be knocking this early in the morning?” he groaned, and his lover kicked him in the side. 

“If you don’t get up and get it, you’re doing the dishes for a week,” Beka said, and Yuri sighed, pushing up to a sitting position. 

“I’m not opening the door,” Yuri said, already on his way pushing out from under the warm covers. “The only people who knock on people doors in the middle of the god damn night in a snow storm are murderes or people running away from murderers, and that’s just drama I don’t fucking want.”

“Tell them that then, so we can go back to sleep,” Beka mumbled, and Yuri smacked his lips, and made his way to the door. He was too fucking tired to find any clothes, so who ever it was out there would have to deal with Yuri being in only his boxers. Yuri didn’t give a fuck. 

He passed the kitchen, the clock on the wall showing just after five. Shit, what kind of lunatic was this?

Potya zig zagged between his legs as he made his way over, and Yuri grumbled a good morning to her as he reached the hallway, and with a sigh peered through the peephole of the front door.

“Shit,” he cursed, and reached down to scoop Potya up so she wouldn’t escape, before he unlocked the door and flung it open. “What the hell are you doing here? Don’t you know it’s a fucking snowstorm out?”

Yuuri Katsuki looked like a fucking zombie. No, worse than that, he looked like someone had ripped his heart out and left it in the snow. His eyes were deep red behind his glasses, his cheeks cracked from tears. His lips were chapped, and he looked like he hadn’t slept for like a week. At least he was in warm clothes, and there was a bag slung over his shoulder, but it all looked rumpled and wrong. 

“I got fired,” Yuuri said, his voice hoarse and thin. Yuri frowned, and stepped to the side in silent invitation. Yuuri took it, and stepped into the hallway. The bag slipped from his shoulder and landed on the floor with a hard bang. Yuuri didn’t look like he cared, he didn’t even look apologetic about barging in at Yuri’s at the middle of the fucking night. If he didn’t know any better he would think Yuuri was drunk.

Then again, drunk Yuuri stripped, and flirted, and challenged people to dance offs he always won...not that Yuri knew anything about that. 

“What do you mean fucking fired? You’re in an independent dance group, you can’t get fucking fired. Phichit would never fucking fire you,” Yuri snapped, and Yuuri sat down heavily on the shoe rack, unlacing his snow boots one by one. “Also, again, there’s a fucking snow storm.”

“Ivan fired me,” Yuuri explained, and that did cause a frown to appear between Yuri’s brows. He would have expected Ivan to fire basically anyone in the dance group, before he fired Yuuri. 

“Why?” he asked, as Yuuri pulled his shoes off and left them scattered on the floor. What the fuck? Something was seriously wrong. 

“I slept with one of the guests,” Yuuri said, and that made Yuri’s brows climb high on his forehead. 

“Slept with one of the guests?” Yuri echoed, leaning forward. Potya jumped out of his arms and walked away, clearly done with this conversation. “You don’t do that.”

“I guess I did,” Yuuri muttered, and then opened his jacket, but stayed seated. He looked up at Yuri, who was still so fucking confused. He looked so lost so empty, and Yuri felt an echo of recognition in him that made him shudder.

fuck. 

“You look like shit,” Yuri pointed out, and Yuuri let out a hollow laugh that was really the scariest thing yet. Yuri was really not as good at this as Yuuri had been when Yuri had come to him, hollow and fucking broken apart.

“Yeah well,” was all Yuuri said in explanation, and really Yuri was at a loss in what to do. Luckily, Beka turned up in the door to the hallway then, a pair of sweatpants slung over his hips and his hair standing every which way. He peered carefully into the room, and then his brows rose as he spotted Yuuri.

“So, now you felt like you could get up?” Yuri asked, and Beka scoffed. “Got too curious?”

“I had to come see if my husband had been murdered,” Beka answered, and took another step into the hallway. “Hi Yuuri.”

“Hi Beka,” Yuuri answered, still slumped on the shoe rack. “Sorry to barge in.”

“It’s fine, you’ve done enough for us to come by whenever, even in a snowstorm like, four days before Christmas,” Beka said, and Yuri felt a smile curl on his lips. “You need somewhere to sleep?”

“Yeah that- That would be good,” Yuuri agreed. Beka nodded, and without another word walked back into the apartment. Yuri was fairly sure he was going to go make the pull out couch. 

Yuri turned back to Yuuri, and sighed. “Come on, up you go,” he said, and Yuuri nodded before he sighed, pushing back up from the shoe rack. He shrugged out of his jacket, and Yuri grabbed his bag before they headed inside. The couch was almost done once they reached it, and Yuuri thanked them as they left him to it, with instructions that he could take whatever he wanted from the fridge if he was hungry. 

Beka hovered just behind Yuri as they made sure Yuuri was settled, and it wasn’t until they were inside the bedroom, the door closed behind them, that he spoke again.

“So, you might have been right about the person knocking being chased by a murderer,” Beka commented. “He looked like he was half dead.”

“I know,” Yuri said, falling into bed on his side as Beka stepped out of his sweatpants and crawled under the covers. 

“Did he say what had happened?” Beka asked, and Yuri moved closer, pressing himself to Beka’s side. 

“I think someone broke his heart,” Yuri admitted, wrapping his arm around Beka’s waist. 

________________________

It was fucking awful seeing someone you admire crumbled to pieces and miserable beyond belief. Yuri had no idea what to do about it. Bits and pieces came from Yuuri when prompted about what had happened, and most of it Yuri picked up from listening in when Yuuri talked to Phichit on the phone the day after he arrived. Yuri felt absolutely no shame about it. He needed to know what the fuck was going on.

The puzzle came together slowly. Someone, named Victor, had helped out when Sara had gotten injured by that walking hazzard Anya. Apparently he was a dancer too, apparently they had come second in the competition that kept everyone fed through the dry months. Fuck did Yuri not miss that. As much as he had loved the group, and some part of the nomadic life, that part always sucked the most. 

This Victor person was apparently the source of Yuuri’s misery. At first, Yuri was pretty sure he would have to drive up to the Catskills to beat the shit out of him, but Yuuri assured him it was not Victor’s fault.

“I got carried away with my emotions,” Yuuri said as he looked out the window, his gaze far away. He still looked like he was completely empty, and it was terrifying. “It’s not- he never promised me anything. He did all he could to make sure I didn’t get fired.”

Yuri didn’t really believe him. He was fully convinced that this Victor person had broken Yuuri’s heart like Anya did with at least one person in the staff each year, and that Yuuri had lost his job at the end of it as well. Why else, if Victor hadn’t left him, was he acting like a kicked puppy?

Yuri had forgotten to account for Yuuri’s fucking olympic level of obliviousness however. 

“No, he’s- I think he’s hurting just as much as Yuuri is,” Mila said with a sigh when Yuri called her on the second day, after Yuuri had fallen asleep. “I think they’re just idiots, who think the other doesn’t love them as much as they do.”

“I hate them,” Yuri said with a sigh, staring up at the starry sky. He had walked out to get some air, as well as make sure he didn’t wake Yuuri. He still looked like he needed to sleep for like a week to become rested. “How is everyone?”

“Good, we miss you of course,” Mila teased, and Yuri was glad she couldn't see him and how his lips quirked up at that. “It’s been the worst season up here though I think. We won’t come back next winter.”

“Good riddance, you really should have stopped years ago,” Yuri pointed out, and Mila sighed. “How is Sara’s ankle?”

“Better, not fully healed but,” Mila said. “She’s going to start dancing on it again next week.”

“Good, she’s too good not to,” Yuri pointed out. “She should get a partner to compete with full time, go to real competitions.”

“You know Yuuri wouldn’t be happy doing that,” Mila said, and Yuri scoffed. 

“I fucking know. It’s why it should be someone else,” Yuri said, licking his lips. “No offence, but he really shouldn’t be with you still.”

“We all know that,” Mila said, and his voice sounded a little sad. “I think- Victor is a ballet dancer too. I think it reminded Yuuri of how much he misses it, and how it used to feel. Perhaps it’s a double sorrow.”

“He should just get fucking over himself. He’s too good to be fucking around up at moutains, dodging groping hands from people he teaches to ballroom,” Yuri sighed. “Don’t you dare tell anyone I said that.”

“Promise,” Mila said, and laughed. “How are you? Still happy being a runaway, teen husband, professional dancer?”

“Yeah, I am,” Yuri said, looking down at the wedding band on his finger, smiling beside himself. “The company is doing good too, we’ve been doing the nutcracker, as the season demands.”

“Ouch, how does Beka feel about that?” Mila teased, and Yuri groaned, before he let out a laugh. Mila laughed too.

“I fucking hate you,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re the worst.” 

“Glad to be of service,” Mila said, and Yuri could imagine her grin. The line went quiet for a moment, and Yuri closed his eyes. “Take care of him, Yuuri I mean. Tell him that if he wants to start a riot here, we’re behind him.”

“Riot?” Yuri scoffed. “You know you’re all like dancers right? Not a gang.”

“We could cause a dance riot,” Mila said, and then laughed. 

“Isn’t that just a flash mob?” Yuri said, and Mila laughed even harder. 

“Yeah, we can flash mob riot, you tell him that,” Mila said, and they both laughed, until they fell silent once more. Yuri should probably head inside, he had a show tomorrow. Celestino would be working his butt off if he was late, or exhausted. 

“I’ll tell him when he wakes,” Yuri promised, and Mila hummed. “Tell the others I said hi.”

“Will do,” she promised. “Oh, and Yuri?”

“Yeah?” he said, having turned to put his hand on the door handle. Mila didn’t answer for a moment, and Yuri frowned. “What?”

“Tell him that Victor’s really miserable too. You know how Yuuri is, how he thinks no one wants him….Yuri, they were so happy. I think- never mind I know you don’t believe in things like fate or whatever, but try to let him know that as happy as Victor made him, he did the same for Victor too.”

“Okay,” Yuri said, feeling slightly breathless. It reminded him of a conversation he had a year and a half ago, with the man now sleeping on his couch, about the man that later became his husband. His grip on the door handle tightened. “Did he really make him that happy?”

“I’ve never seen him like that Yuri, it was as if he was alive,” Mila said, and Yuri let out a long breath. Determination flooded him.

Only one thing to do then. 

“Okay, I’ll talk to him,” Yuri promised, and then pulled the phone from his ear and headed inside. Yuuri was still sound asleep, and Yuri looked at him for a moment. He would let him rest tonight, and then speak to him tomorrow. It was Christmas eve then after all, so perhaps Yuri could work out some fucking Christmas miracle. 


End file.
